


That's All I Am

by Loveislove87



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveislove87/pseuds/Loveislove87
Summary: Forrest wants the scoop. Michael wants him to back the hell up.
Relationships: Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 115





	That's All I Am

“Hi there.”

Michael turned and offered a small smile to Forrest, tipping his beer in greeting. “Maria, Forrest. Forrest, Maria. She owns the place.”

Forrest smiled wide and held out his hand. With a surprised chuckle, Maria reached across the bar and gave it a shake. “Welcome to the Pony, Forrest. What can I get you?”

“Uh, two of whatever you have on draft, please and thanks.”

Michael lifted an eyebrow. “Two? Bad day, Nazi guy?”

He shook his head as Michael watched a blush cross his cheeks, making him look like a teenager. “Nah,” Forrest bit his lip. “One for me. One for Alex.”

Michael’s breath stuttered as his heart leapt into his throat. 

_No._

“I hope I’m not being pushy but I’ve gotta ask,” he leaned in conspiratorially as Maria placed the two glasses in front of them. “Is Alex single? I haven’t got the balls to just ask him yet.”

Maria beamed as Michael swallowed a mouthful of bile.

“As far as we know, yes.” Maria leaned against the bar, resting her chin in her hand. “But what are your intentions with our boy? Do you have a job? Can you lavish him with the finest things in life?”

Forrest laughed, a kind, warm sound that had Maria responding in kind. “I think he’s incredible. I make practically no money between the farm and the writing but I get by.” Michael followed his gaze as Forrest stared, lost in thought, at Alex chatting animatedly with Valenti at a table. “He _does_ deserves the best though, doesn’t he?”

“He does and he ain’t getting it from you.”

Maria smacked Michael’s arm lightly with the back of her hand, making an “ugh” sound.

Forrest had an amused look on his face, looking Michael up and down, clearly confused. “Sorry?”

Taking a long swig from his beer, Michael shrugged. He placed the bottle down with a little too much force and turned his body to face Forrest head on, hands on his knees and leaning in, attempting to look every bit the wild drifter people liked to label him.

“I said, you aren’t gonna be able to give him what he needs, what he deserves, like you said.”

Forrest stood taking both beers in his hands, ready to leave the conversation.

“I don’t know what your problem is, man.”

“You’re a Long,” Michael scoffed. “Enough said.”

“So he’s just his name?”

Michael’s blood went cold as he turned to find Alex standing behind him, face stoic but hands clenched. Michael tried to play it down, snorting and grabbing his beer once again. “C’mon, Alex. Same blood as Wyatt.”

“Same blood as Jesse.”

Michael froze when his mistake became horrifically obvious.

“This is just a misunderstanding, guys.” Maria, ever the professional, tried diffusing the situation.

“I’m actually pretty hungry, Forrest.” Alex moved forward, placing the beers from Forrest’s hands back onto the bar. “Let me take you to the Crashdown. Best burgers you’ll ever have.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Forrest asked Maria, “what do I owe you?”

Kindly, she shook her head. “On the house, kid. You two have a nice dinner.”

Michael shot up and reached out for Alex’s arm as the two men started heading for the exit. “Alex, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it, Guerin. I’m just another Manes man after all.”

Michael stood in shame as he watched them leave, Forrest smoothly placing his hand on Alex’s lower back as they squeezed through the too small doorway.

Placing a hand on his mouth and trying to wrap his head around what just happened, his eyes connected with Maria’s. “What the fuck was that, Guerin?”

He hung his head, embarrassment pulling at his chest. “Get over yourself and let him be happy.”

Michael started peeling the label off his beer when she walked away, sure Maria wouldn’t be willing to serve him again tonight and even more sure he’d be driving back to the airstream alone. He rolled the small pieces paper between his fingers until they disappeared completely.

He sighed and stood, fitting his hat comfortably on his head. He tried catching Maria’s eye before he left but she was decidedly not noticing him.

As he drove home, windows down, breeze tickling his face, Michael thought of nothing but Alex: the way his shoulders relaxed when he spent time with Valenti, the smiles Michael had tried to ignore when Forrest would offer up small compliments, the way his eyes got soft when Maria told a shitty joke, how he’d looked impossibly hurt at Michael’s words.

He cleared his throat and gripped the wheel tighter. No. It was easier to just hate Forrest fucking Long.


End file.
